


Weather Systems

by Quicksilver_Rain



Category: Thrilling Intent (Web Series)
Genre: Ace Panic, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, Ashe and Thog are Charoth's Parents, Charoth Goes by They/Them Pronouns, F/M, POV Ashe, POV Charoth, Snuggling for warmth, fight me about it, inclement weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 02:25:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17889743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quicksilver_Rain/pseuds/Quicksilver_Rain
Summary: Charoth didn't know much, not anymore, not for a while.Despite that, though, Charoth did know some things, and they thought a lot more than they let on.For example:Charoth knew that they had been very angry and very scared, once upon a time.(sometimes you don't realize you're part of a family until it's too late)





	1. The Confession

**Author's Note:**

> This is more or less cross-posted from Tumblr, with a couple things re-written, because 2015 was a long time ago and more paragraphs for readability.
> 
> Also: Charoth in this fic originally referred to themselves as It, and while I _think_ I managed to fix all their pronouns, I might have missed a couple. Lemme know.

Charoth didn't know much, not anymore, not for a while.

Despite that, though, Charoth _did_ know some things, and they thought a lot more than they let on.

For example:

Charoth knew that they had been very angry and very scared, once upon a time.

They also knew that Mom -Charoth couldn’t make the same noises that the others did when talking to her, but they liked 'Mom,' better than her name anyway, even if the Red one _had_ suggested it sarcastically- despite loving them, letting them nestle on her chest with her arms wrapped around them when she slept, and telling them stories about gods and humans and all the creatures in between was…

Charoth didn't think that 'sad,' was the right word.

Empty, perhaps?

As if something had scraped away bits of her like she cut away shavings of wood off the sticks and branches they'd found during their walks through the forests and on the beaches. Charoth thought that they filled the empty spots a little bit, by loving her back, but they were simply too small to fill all the hollow bits all by themselves.

##

Charoth knew other things, too:

Like that Dad -and Charoth _could_ make the sounds that the others called him, but they liked Dad better, because Mom had jokingly called him that one day after finding Charoth curled up in his lap in an attempt to get away from the Loud one and the Burning one's shenanigans- wasn't ever really as angry as he looked.

He was simply disappointed that the others hadn't done as well as he thought they should, though Charoth didn't really think he expected them to do very well in the first place.

They also knew that Dad only pretended not to like them, Charoth could tell by the way he would tell them to go away and make shooing motions at them:

His voice always sounded different talking to Charoth than it did when he was yelling at people, and his movements weren't as sharp as they were when he was talking to the others, no matter _how_ loud he was shouting at them.

Charoth knew that even though he acted like he didn't like anyone, Dad never told Mom to go away when she sat down beside him, like he did when the others tried to join him on his bench by the fire.

And despite him pretending otherwise, Charoth could see that Dad was hurt in ways that Mom's green lightning couldn’t fix, and even though Charoth could heal the wounds a little bit, by loving him back, They were simply too small to fix them all.

##

Today, it was cold, or rather, Charoth thought it was cold.

They couldn’t quite tell, but they thought that perhaps it was, because Mom was wearing her shirt with the purple sleeves and Dad had his own sleeves rolled down and was pretending not to be bothered by the chill in the air, even though the fire was sitting much closer to their bench than it usually did. Charoth was sitting between them, unhappily looking from one to the other, watching them unhappily watch the fire that was burning away _quite_ happily in what might have been a barrel someone had stolen from one of the other islands.

Charoth batted at the shiny ticking thing Dad was holding just out of their reach.

They often did this, Mom and Dad did, at least. Charoth, too, but they didn't usually start out sitting in front of the fire with them.

Usually, it would find them in front of the fire, being quiet together while the Red one trained and the Loud one and Burning one were off accidentally exploding things in the Workshop.

When Charoth found them, Dad's arm would be resting on the table they all used as a backrest, holding a glass of gods _knew_ what.

Charoth certainly didn't, but they thought it smelled a lot like the tub of sludge in the corner of the Workshop.

They had fallen into the barrel once, by accident, and were fished out a few moments later by the Loud one, who was being even louder than usual, their hair as brittle as straw and reeking like gods only knew what.

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be good for him if it smelled like _that_ , Charoth thought, looking from Dad to the glass and back.

Sometimes, much like now, Dad would let Charoth play with his sparkly, ticking thing while Mom made them toys from pretty bits of wood she liked.

Today was different, though, Charoth thought, looking over their shoulder when Mom moved, slouching so that her head was resting on Dad's shoulder. She took a deep breath and looked _so tired_ and they watched as Dad's arm slipped off the table they were using as a backrest to settle around Mom's waist, the ice in the glass tinkling as it shifted.

_This_ , at least, was decidedly _different_ from usual, no matter _who_ Charoth was watching.

When the Loud one and the Burning one sat like this, there was a lot more chatter and the Loud one fidgeted so much that it was probably a _very_ good thing he didn't have one of his smoking, exploding things in his hands to keep him busy, because it would certainly explode. The Burning one, on the other hand, simply smiled and laughed and kept up his end of the conversation, usually with a book that he wasn't reading perched in his lap.

When the Red one and Dont -whose name was the easiest to say by far- sat like this, they would talk quietly and share stories while the Red one made scarves and socks and hats -not for Charoth, never for Charoth- and Dont made sure the yarn didn't get tangled.

Dad's voice caught Charoth's attention like a roll of thunder, "alright there, Ashe? You look…" the rest of it dissipated like he'd run out of words.

Mom jammed the blade she used to shape the wood into the bench near her leg, putting her head in her hand for a moment, before running her fingers over the rough surface of Charoth's newest toy -a duck, maybe? Her voice sounded like sad rain, the kind she'd just sit at the window and watch fall, "what? Oh, fine. I'm fine."

Charoth didn't think she was fine, but they kept this to themselves.

Dad, however, did not keep it to himself, "bull _shit_."

Mom's hand wrapped around Charoth's head and pulled them so their ears were blocked between her palm and her side, even though they had heard Dad say words that sounded _much_ worse when she wasn't around, " _Thog._ "

Charoth watched Dad stare at her a lot like how he stared at the Burning one when he thought he was being clever. There was something off about it, though. Charoth thought it was probably the way Dad silently ground his teeth together, like he wanted to say something, but didn't think he should.

He blinked, looked up at the hole in the ceiling that was covered in bright blue, crinkly stuff that was supposed to keep out the snow but didn't quite manage it, and after a few moments, finally sighed in defeat, "all _right_ , forget I asked."

This all was fairly normal, sort of, Charoth thought:

Mom would say something Dad didn't like, or maybe it was the other way around, and the other would just stare and look away and sigh and say something like, " _fine_ ," or, " _whatever_ ," or, "all _right_ ," and they'd go back to not talking to each other like they always did.

What was _not_ normal, today, at least, was that Dad dropped his shiny, ticking treasure in Charoth's lap, reached over to push Mom's hair out of her face and kissed her in not quite the same way Mom sometimes kissed Charoth before they went to bed. Then, he settled back against the table they were using as a backrest again, reaching for the pleasantly ticking shiny that Charoth had decided to ignore in favor of watching Mom's face go pink like the sky sometimes did at dawn, her eyebrows disappearing into her hair.

Charoth waited, watching her as they went back to playing with the shiny that Dad was holding just out of their reach again.

Mom was silent for a long time and Dad's mouth went thin and Charoth thought this was a lot like that time the Loud one had thrown one of his clicking, smoking things into the courtyard and they'd all hidden behind the rocks in tense silence until the thing finally started whistling and sparking, eventually blasting a dent in the ground big enough to sit comfortably in.

It hadn’t been a particularly fun experience, and Charoth was beginning to develop the same opinion about this one, too.

Finally, after a few minutes -or maybe years or months, the human concept of time was sometimes confusing for Charoth- Mom tilted her head and chewed on her lip for a second -or maybe a minute- and said a very final sounding, "ah. Okay," before resting her head back on Dad's shoulder. Her hand moved from where she'd left it, settled in Charoth's hair, to slip in the gap between the table and bench, and wrap around Dad's waist.

The cup clicked as Dad set it on the table, returning his hand back to her side, pressing his face in her hair for a moment.

Charoth thought he was trying to hide something that might have been a smile; not the kind he made when he and Mom were putting holes in the training dummy out back with their boom-stick and she made a good shot, but a real smile, like the kind Mom got when it was early in the morning and Charoth chirped along with the birdsong. The kind that reached her eyes and made her laugh and squeeze they tightly.

If the way Dad's arm tightened around Mom's waist was anything to go by, it was that kind of smile, and Charoth thought they might like to see Dad smile like that, sometime, but that this was good for now.

##

There were many things Charoth didn't know, that they had never known.

Things like why the Red one sometimes glared at they when no one was around, or how the Loud one managed to love _everyone_ and _everything_ so much, and maybe a little more, in some cases), or why the Burning one was always so carefree, even when he wasn't.

They knew it was too small to fill Mom's hollow bits or fix Dad's broken ones.

They also knew that right now, in front of a fire burning in a barrel that someone had probably stolen from one of the other islands, Dad was starting to fill Mom's cracks and Mom was beginning to heal Dad's hurts, and it was going to be slow going, but it was nice regardless.

This wasn't perfect, Charoth thought as they snuggled comfortably into the pleasantly warm space between Mom and Dad, it wasn't even good, sometimes, but they tried, and that was enough as far as Charoth was concerned. 


	2. Oh So Insistent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What was supposed to happen next?  
> More than that, what was Ashe supposed to do?  
> Or think?  
> Or feel?  
> How was Ashe supposed to cope with this?  
> Why her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you get asked to write a fluffy follow-up to a thing and transcribing your Ace Panic instead. 
> 
> And _then_ fluff! 
> 
> Everyone wins!

Ashe didn't like thinking about Meathe if she could help it, but when one's only point of reference was a shitty little island populated solely by superstitious morons, one really had to take what they could get.

Granted, she _had_ expanded her pool of knowledge somewhat since escaping the hell she'd grown up in, but that didn't mean she was going to ask Gregor or Markus about the quandary currently occupying her mind, and Kier was probably just as clueless as she was, though he was _much_ more likely to simply roll with things as they were than he was to  give them even a _modicum_ of thought.

Charoth chittered from her lap, clicking and whistling along with the birds perched out on the branches of the hollowed-out tree the pair was currently occupying, their chilled fingers carefully running over the bindings on her right arm like she was something fragile and precious.

At first, she hadn't wanted to let them that close to the bindings, afraid that whatever was being bound would siphon off Charoth's energy or something if they got too close, but the little spirit-folk must have been able to feel the magic crashing around inside her, threatening to turn her into a screaming void of nothingness, because they soon developed a habit of running their hands over the marks like they were smoothing out the  wrinkles in a piece of cloth or calming a frightened animal and eventually Ashe found it more comforting than off-putting.

She forced out the breath she'd been holding and brought her mind back to the task at hand, though it was mildly difficult due to the cold that was seeping into Ashe's hideout via the entrance.

Ever since 'The Incident' as she was mentally referring to it, she'd been avoiding the bar like the plague because her head felt like it was full of bees and her insides were pasted in a nice way that she couldn’t explain.

She couldn’t really explain anything, though, and that was the problem.

Objectively, she knew that Thog had asked her if she was alright, and then did that thing where he was irritated when she didn't want to talk about it. She never did, but she'd noticed as of late that the he was the only one that was ever perturbed by the news anymore, and this was all normal, or as normal as things could be, when one was getting increasingly used to minor explosions and random fires.

What had thrown her off and ultimately forced her into the woods, was that instead of settling back against the table and going back to glaring at the fire again, like he usually did, he leaned forward, pushed her hair out of her face and kissed her.

At the time, if she was honest with herself, which she rarely was, Ashe had simply pulled a Kier and rolled with it, accepting the fact that all her internal organs seemed to be simultaneously failing, that she as probably putting off more heat than the fire crackling happily some ten feet away, and the fact that really, anyone could walk in at any time _and wouldn’t that be embarrassing?_ And then, for reasons that she didn't quite understand, she'd curled up next to the current object of her anxiety -it helped if she didn't refer to him by name, because at least then, her stomach didn't feel like it was about to fall out- and let him wrap his hand protectively around her waist with Charoth nestled between them.

Had that been the next logical step?

Had she merely acted on impulse and done what came naturally?

Ashe wasn't exactly sure, all she knew was that she'd eventually fallen asleep, and woken up sometime later to find that Thog -she winced inwardly as her stomach flipped- hadn't moved. In fact, he'd fallen asleep sitting upright, braced against the table, head tilted forward, snoring quietly.

It had seemed so _nice_ and _normal_ that Ashe had nearly curled right back up despite not being tired in the least.

Instead, anxiety almost immediately began to crash through her and she'd slipped out from under his arm, careful not to wake him as she crept out the door, making a mad dash for the nearest hollowed out tree to hide in.

What was supposed to happen next?

More than that, what was Ashe supposed to do?

Or think?

Or feel?

How was Ashe supposed to cope with this?

Why _her?_

Now, Ashe stopped chewing on her lip and shifted so Charoth was more comfortably situated in her lap, their fuzzy head butting against the underside of her chin as their fingers traced the bindings on her neck.

In Meathe, she hadn't really had the opportunity to learn about people; not in any meaningful way. They were too busy treating her like some chaotic god that was one dull week away from plaguing the island with disasters escalating in seriousness until there was nothing left.

Sometimes, though, they wouldn’t notice her standing at the fringes of their fragile little reality and she would watch, politely interested as they… existed, for lack of a better word:

Mothers herded children, people sold wares, men laughed loudly, children played with animals and couples held hands… well, couples sometimes held hands. Sometimes, they did… other things when it was dark, and they thought they were alone in the woods.

Ashe made a face, shaking the, frankly disturbing, mental image from her head, trying to figure out where _that_ was supposed to fit into the picture, though honestly, she found that she couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried.

Charoth chittered again, wiggling out of her lap to poke their head out the hole that served as an entrance to the hollow, chirping a sound that Ashe recognized as being the one they used to identify Gregor. The little spirit-folk leaned out the entrance, prompting Ashe to reach over and grab them before they could tip too far and fall the twenty or so feet between them and the ground below.

For a moment, Ashe thought of just ignoring her unwanted visitor and shrinking farther back into her hideout, but then she heard the boy sigh heavily from the ground, calling up to Charoth and sounding surprisingly friendly for how much he didn’t like them.

"Look, I still don’t like _or_ trust you, but if you could tell me where your mother is, that would be nice." The sarcasm in his voice when he said the word ' _mother_ ' was so blatant it was almost visible to the naked eye, despite the rest of the sentence being fairly innocuous.

Ashe figured whatever it was must have been important, if _Gregor_ , of all people was being personable, or at least trying to be personable, to _Charoth_.

She sighed as Charoth chattered loudly at the mention of their mother, poking her head out of the hollow to see a bundled up, glaive-less Gregor staring warily back up at her, his hands on his hips like he was trying to be formidable, but not quite managing it. "Hey Gregor, is something wrong?"

He smiled boyishly up at her. "I _knew_ I'd find you if I figured out where your weird monster baby was."

Ashe chewed her lip for a moment, scooping Charoth into her arms protectively despite the fact that Gregor couldn’t get at them from where he was, no matter how hard he tried. "Charoth's spirit-folk, Gregor."

He shrugged. "You _say_ that, but _I_ think that anything that kills a bunch of people because it's sad counts as a monster."

Ashe rolled her eyes so forcefully that she gave herself a headache. "Not everyone can just do some push-ups and fix all their problems, Gregor."

"Is that why you're up there?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her, tugging his winter robe around his shoulders a little tighter as a wind whipped through the trees.

She flexed her fingers a bit and counted back from ten in an effort to not get overly defensive and yell at him when he was just trying to help. "Was there something you needed?"

Gregor stared up at her for a long moment, apparently having forgotten what he was going to say, before nodding to himself importantly. "Kier says it's going to frost tonight…"

Ashe felt her face slip into something a little disbelieving in response to that.

Sometimes Kier couldn’t tell that it was raining despite being drenched from running around outside, though Markus usually defended the engineer by saying that Kier was too deep in the invent zone to notice a silly thing like _water_ falling from the _sky_.

Gregor must have noticed, because he continued after a moment of silence. "Dont says it's probably going to sleet."

The cold hadn't ever really bothered Ashe, which she chalked up to being…

She shook her head before she had the chance to slip back into that dangerous place. "I'll be fine."

Gregor put his hands back on his hips again, squinting up at her. "You've been hiding in a tree for half a week."

Usually, he wasn't this blunt, but Ashe had to concede that he had a point. "I just have some things to think about."

"I don’t think it's healthy for you to come hide in the woods whenever you need to think about things, Ashe," Gregor called back up, maybe a little stubbornly. "Maybe sometimes, but it's cold out and you don't have a jacket. You'll freeze to death."

Again, he had a point, not about her freezing to death, but it was a point nonetheless, and she probably would have come up with a completely valid, if not slightly weak reason as to why her hiding in the woods was perfectly fine, except that Gregor was nearly halfway up the side of the tree by the time she thought to do so. Within another few seconds, he was perched comfortably on a nearby branch, smiling expectantly at her.

“Okay?”

Ashe rested her head in her hand and sighed, thinking that maybe Gregor was the best person to talk to if she was going to be forced to talk to someone, since she needed less flippant commentary or good-natured rambling and more innocent, if not slightly brutal, honesty. “ _Okay_."

If Gregor had been anyone else, he might have fallen off the branch he was sitting on out of surprise, instead, however, his smile merely brightened. "So, what's bothering you Ashe?"

It struck her that actually articulating her thoughts was a bit harder than she would have assumed. And, well, it wasn’t like she’d had a whole lot of practice doing so, either. She stayed silent for a few moments, rubbing her fingers through Charoth's hair before finally settling on. "I don’t know how to act around people."

It wasn't exactly right, but it would have to do.

"Just act like yourself, Ashe, we like you just the way you are," Gregor chirped almost immediately, looking quite a lot like those little red birds that hung around during the winter months. "Well, maybe you could yell a bit less, but we know you do it because you care."

Ashe waved her hand, brushing away the kindness. "Yes, but what if _I_ like someone?" she asked, feeling incredibly childish and maybe even regretting the conversation a little.

This was met with silence for a few minutes as Gregor pondered her question, playing with the fringe on the scarf he was wearing. “Do they like _you_?"

The bottom fell out of Ashe's stomach as she remembered 'The Incident,' and her face felt like it was going red again. "I…yeah… I guess."

Gregor's smile was so very _Gregor_ that Ashe felt her own mouth quirk to match. "Then what's the problem?"

Exasperated, Ashe put her face in her hands, suddenly feeling sick. "I don’t _know_. What happens next? What do I do? I over-think things and I yell a lot and some days it's all I can do to function right, and what if I can't give them what they want from me or I'm even _more_ fucked up than I think I am and they find out and-" she forced herself to stop before she worked herself into angry tears over it, taking  deep breath. "Sorry, Gregor."

He tilted his head at her, hand hovering in her air for a moment before settling resolutely on her shoulder, warm despite the chill in the air. "It's okay Ashe," he paused in thought for a moment, looking up at the dark clouds rolling in from the sea. "I think that if they like you, they probably already know you yell a lot and worry and they won't mind if you can't do certain things because they like _you_."

She let this sink in for a moment.

Part of her wanted to believe Gregor, but the rest was stubbornly set on remaining skeptical.

Still, she nodded, sinking back into the hollow in exhaustion, "I… I guess you have a point…"

"It'll be okay Ashe," a pause, and then, "do you want me to leave you alone, so you can think?" he asked innocently, gesturing at her hidey hole as if she wouldn’t get his meaning otherwise.

Ashe nodded, tired from her emotional outburst, regardless of short it was. "Yeah, I think I need a few minutes…"

Gregor nodded sagely and began slipping off the branch he'd been occupying. "Just make sure you come back before dinner, so you don't accidently freeze to death, okay?"

He hopped down from the limb, falling the twenty feet to the snowy ground with a loud thud, though he somehow managed to land on his feet. He looked up at her and waved, smiling brightly again before tromping off through the trees, back to the bar.

Ashe waited until the sound of Gregor's footsteps faded from her hearing before sinking back into the hollow, getting comfortable and situating Charoth before going back to pondering her current dilemma.

##

The next thing Ashe knew was that she was being woken up by a crack of thunder, Charoth was gone, and she was still somehow _exhausted_.

She looked at the sky through the mouth of the hollow and realized, a little guiltily, that she hadn't kept her promise to Gregor. It was nearly dark and thundering clouds were rolling in from the sea. Ashe probably would have slunk out of her hiding spot and snuck back to the bar to curl up in one of the more overlooked corners and get some more sleep without interruption, but her activities were interrupted by the sound of something crashing through the woods, cursing occasionally and Ashe decided not to venture outside simply because she didn't want to deal with whatever was out there.

The sounds continued for a few moments before Charoth scampered in through the entrance of the hideout, chittering wildly as they circled the interior of the surprisingly roomy hollow.

Ashe was about to ask what was bothering it so much, when something big and soft was tossed into the hollow, hitting her in the chest, shortly followed by a bulky figure clambering inside.

"God _damnit_ Ashe," Thog growled, cracking his head on the low ceiling of the hole as he shifted in an attempt to get out of the elements. "What the _hell_ are you doing out here in this weather?"

Part of her wanted to be irritated and yell at him, but she'd long since noticed that Thog didn't shout at her like he shouted at the others, so instead, she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling worse for not keeping Gregor's promise to go back to the bar and fighting the anxiety clawing up her chest at Thog's arrival. "I was thinking…"

He glared at her for a few seconds, only the fire wasn't quite there, before letting out a long, low sigh, and reaching for the bundle he'd brought with him. He tugged it into his lap, pulling at the knot holding it closed with much more focus than Ashe thought was entirely necessary. When he looked away, Ashe felt like she could breathe again, despite the fact that he asked an only mildly interested sounding, "what about?"

Ashe lifted a shoulder, unsure of what exactly to say. "I…I don't know. Just thinking..." She watched Thog unwrap the bundle, pulling a bottle from the folds, followed by an odd little totem that was giving off quite a lot of heat and a pair of mismatched cups. "I…I don't know how human interaction works half the time and I just don’t want to… I don't know if I can… I think that I might be a little…weirder…than the average person…" She forced herself to stop again, half out of fear, half because she was being stared at.

Thog shifted again, ducking to keep from cracking his head again, looking from the bottle in his hand to Ashe and back again before speaking, "I know."

"You _know?_ " Ashe asked, scowling at him as he pulled the cork from the bottle and poured its contents into one of the mugs.

He held the heavy ceramic out to her, "It'd be pretty fucking hard not to, Ashe. I know you, and you're weird. You're _really_ fucking weird, sometimes." She must have made a face that suggested she was going to argue as she took the mug, because he added a deadpan, "the stone arm?" before she could say anything to defend herself.

Ashe felt her heart skip in her chest and had to force herself to breathe. "H-how do you know about that?"

The other poured whatever was in the bottle in the second cup and took a drink. "I'm CEO, I _have_ to know these things."

Ashe frowned and looked down at her cup. “And… you're… _okay_ _…_ with that."

He rolled his eyes as if she'd just asked the stupidest question he'd ever had the misfortune of hearing. "I'm okay with a lot of things, Ashe," he eyed her for a moment, and then, "move."

She did as she was told, holding her mug aloft as Thog moved from the mouth of the hollow to the back, dodging around Charoth and settling against the inner wall. He reached over to grab her arm, ignoring her yelped query of ‘ _what're you doing?!_ ’ in favor of tugging her over from the opposite wall until her she was sitting with her back pressed comfortably against his chest.

Thog scooped up the wrapping of the bundle from the floor of the hollow, pulling it around the pair of them so they were protected from the cold wind sneaking in from the outside as a warning of the coming storm.

After a few minutes of fussing, Thog wrapped his arms over Ashe’s stomach, sighing quietly when Charoth wriggled beneath what Ashe could now identify as one of Gregor's knitted blankets.

Finally, he deigned to answer Ashe’s unasked question, grumbling out a tired, "Dont and Kier said it was going to storm tonight. It looks like hell out there and I'll be damned if I catch my death trying to get you to come back to the bar in the fucking _sleet_." His free hand wrapped around hers, feeling a lot like burning, and he hissed. "Gregor was right, you're going to freeze to death."

Ashe would have argued that it didn't look _that_ bad out, and that she _wasn't_ going to freeze, when thunder cracked through the sky again and slush began to fall past the mouth of the hollow, and instead, Ashe decided to take a drink of whatever Thog had given her to keep from saying something combative. She wasn’t familiar with Alerani cuisine, but it was warm and tasted like apples, only not, and made her feel a lot better than she had been feeling. “What _is_ this?"

"Alerani recipe, great for cold nights," he grunted in response near her ear, fingers still wrapped around hers. He shifted to wrap his other arm around the lump that was Charoth. "My Mother used to make it on Tax Day."

She looked over her shoulder as much as she could and then eyed the mug. "It's not alcoholic?"

Silence fell for a moment and Ashe thought she'd said something accidentally racist again.

Ashe was getting ready to apologize when she realized that Thog was laughing so hard he was shaking, arms still locked around her as he wheezed helplessly into her shoulder. " _God_ Ashe, you can't be _drunk_ when the Tax Goat comes around! _Honestly_."

The shock of seeing Thog showing any emotion besides irritation, smug indifference, or exasperation effectively rendered Ashe speechless, and she nodded dumbly in response, unable to react even when he set his mug down on the floor of the hollow and nudged her around until he was able to press a kiss against the side of her mouth, chuckling intermittently throughout the whole thing.

She chewed her lip for a moment, before deciding to pull another Kier and shift until her side was against his chest and her head was tucked under his chin, content to watch the sleet falling from the sky and not feeling the least bit melancholy about it.

It was another few minutes before Thog spoke again, apparently having recovered from his laughing fit. "Better?"

Ashe patted Charoth's head beneath the blanket for a moment, shifting through the once pressing anxieties she'd been fighting before sighing quietly. "Yeah, actually… Thanks Thog."

He didn’t answer immediately, listening to the downpour for a moment. "Anytime, try to get some sleep.”

Ashe sighed, closing her eyes, feeling safe and warm for the first time in a long time.

Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all for right now, however, since this was originally written as a request and then a follow up request, I may or may not add more in the future.
> 
> [Weather Systems](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GYKfPJP530Y), [The Confession](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0CqfvrUK8c), and [Oh So Insistent](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a-Yp-iVjzI4) are all songs by Andrew Bird


End file.
